


Demon from Heaven Above

by pepsicola



Category: South Park
Genre: Christmas, F/M, but there are finals to get through, freshman year of high school, is this very loosely based on i think he knows, presents that have important significance, those last few days before break, yeah it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/pseuds/pepsicola
Summary: Kenny’s indigo eyes flickered down to the burnt out cigarette abandoned on the asphalt. Henrietta put her hand on the right side of his jaw, directing his gaze on her.
Relationships: Henrietta Biggle/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Zombie Boy

_I bet heaven’s gorgeous right about this time._ That’s what Henrietta thought as she walked into fourth period art class. _Those angels better not lay a_ feather _on Kenny._

Death, for the second time that month, had taken her beloved zombie boy. Henrietta couldn’t help but ponder the reason. Kenny always got into stupid things. She really wondered what got him this time, but when he came back tomorrow, she wouldn’t ask. Him returning after Henrietta knew he’d been dead for twenty-four hours would do nothing but support her theory of the zombie boy. _Her_ zombie boy, no matter how many angels laid their eyes upon him.

Except she could be wrong about Kenny dying; it was only an untested theory. She didn’t have any classes with him until fourth period, so maybe he was just running late. It wouldn’t be the first time.

In the Art classroom, Butters was already at her table looking through his Biology notes. Finals began tomorrow, three days before the start of Christmas break.

But there was no Kenny despite him usually being at their table by the time Henrietta arrived. She had his whole schedule committed to memory. He had PE before Art, which was why whenever he came to class, his cheeks were blotchy, and his jacket was hanging over the back of his chair.

Henrietta dropped her backpack at her feet. Still standing, she asked Butters who was across from her, “So did Kenny decide to ditch today or something?” She refused to outright ask the zombie boy’s best friend of his whereabouts. That would sound desperate, and the only person she would sound desperate for was Kenny _if_ they were completely alone together.

Butters looked up from his notes and shrugged. “I dunno. My friends and I assumed he was with you, since he sometimes spends mornings with you.”

Overhead, the final bell rang. Every student who would walk into class now would have to go to the office to get a tardy pass.

Henrietta went to get their project from the counters at the back of the classroom. She picked it up and returned to her table.

So Kenny really _was_ dead. That was unfortunate for Henrietta’s art teacher then. She had an obsession with the number three, which was why every table group in the classroom was situated in threes. When someone was absent, the teacher moved students around to try to obtain three, and if she was unable, she’d fidget all day.

Henrietta thought she was crazy. She probably was. All art teachers were crazy. Henrietta wished she didn’t have to take this stupid class and put up with the stupid teacher, but she needed to take an art to graduate, and she wanted to be out of this hell as soon as possible.

Henrietta watched the art teacher survey the room as she took attendance. When she noticed Kenny’s absence, she froze. Her eyes behind her glasses twitched. Henrietta looked away with a grin. Oh, the teacher would go crazy for the rest of the day.

Henrietta heard the teacher get up from her desk and approach her table. The teacher cleared her throat, and Butters and Henrietta looked up. “Is Kenny not here today?” she asked.

Butters and Henrietta traded a look. Butters said, “No, ma’am.”

The teacher was wringing her hands. Her fingers twitched. “That’s fine,” she said abruptly. “That’s fine. As long as he had gotten his input for your project the day before.” She sounded like she was reassuring herself more than her students.

Henrietta rolled her eyes.

The teacher walked away, her shoulders tense and her stride stiff.

Butters stared at their project. Their final was to make a sculpture out of recycled items like empty water bottles and tin cans. The teacher had given the class a head start on it because she wanted it done by the end of Thursday. Kenny was the one to come up with the idea to attempt to make a guitar. Yesterday, they’d finished the structure. All that was left to do was get the recycled crap onto it to make it look more like a guitar over a misshapen trash pile.

“Convenient Kenny isn’t here to help,” Henrietta drawled.

“Aw, he’s probably sick. Kenny’s always caught stuff real easy ever since we were kids,” Butters said. “Hopefully he’s back by tomorrow.”

A part of Henrietta’s theory was that most people were unaware of Kenny’s temporary deaths, so their brains came up with some logical reason for him being gone. Death was never a conclusion.

Henrietta stared at the bare body of what was supposed to be a guitar. No matter what angle she looked at it from, she couldn’t see a guitar. She only saw garbage.

Henrietta had no physical creative vision. She couldn’t draw or paint. She was better with words. Luckily, when the teacher let students choose their groups of _three and only three_ at the beginning of the year, Kenny very confidently took Henrietta by the hand and led her to his table with Butters. Henrietta had known since fourth grade that Kenny and Butters were creative, so she couldn’t complain about having to sit with them if they’d be her ticket to passing the class.

Butters picked up the empty paper towel roll and started cutting the end into strips. He said, “Could you cut those rubber bands in half?”

Henrietta blinked at the tangled ball of rubber bands. Slowly, she dragged it closer to her and picked up her pair of scissors.

As she cut rubber band after rubber band, she no longer thought about Kenny in heaven basking in ethereal light. She hoped he was pacing the marble floors of the celestial city, praying he’d be sent back to Earth quicker than usual so he wouldn’t have to put up with the shit he would get from Henrietta for him skipping out on helping with their trash-guitar art project when he returned.

When school was over and Henrietta was at home, she made a beeline for her vanity. She swept aside her makeup products to make space for her journal. She opened to the latest blank page and wrote the date in the top right corner. She started the entry with, _Kenny wasn’t here again today. You know what that means..._

The next morning, Henrietta sat behind the gym with Pete and Michael. It was Henrietta’s freshman year. Even though it had been this way since seventh grade, every morning, she was reminded that Firkle no longer went to school with them. It boggled her that he was just starting sixth grade. She supposed that since he’d hung out with her and the other goths for the longest time, her mind had tricked her into thinking he was as old as the rest of them.

Pete and Michael were talking about something, but Henrietta didn’t have the energy to participate in the conversation.

Their words turned to static when she heard footsteps approaching. She turned her head to see Kenny’s silhouette walking towards her. _Here comes the demon from heaven above himself._ She wished she could stop grinning like an idiot. She didn’t even bother hiding it.

When Kenny stepped into the light, Henrietta—for a second—didn’t recognize him. Gone was his orange parka and dirty blue jeans. Gone were his pink Converse covered in doodles.

He wore scuffed combat boots. The left shoe was untied and the end of the string was frayed. He was wearing black jeans that were ripped at the knees. He had a black shirt on underneath a dark green flannel that hung off him loosely. The most surprising to Henrietta wasn’t his hood pulled over his ruffled hair that blocked his violet eyes. It wasn’t his signature lopsided smile. It was the lit cigarette between his lips.

Kenny didn’t smoke. He’d told Henrietta that his brother used to, and Karen did sometimes when she hung out with the goths, but Henrietta had never seen Kenny hold a cigarette, no less have one near his mouth.

Kenny walked over until he stood in front of Henrietta. He put a hand on the wall, leaning over her. If Henrietta stared straight ahead, she would be looking directly at his crotch. That was probably his intention. She lifted her chin to see that through his bangs, his eyes were glinting like his smile as he looked down at her. He took the cigarette from his mouth. Smoke left him when he said, “Hey, princess.”

Henrietta’s lips twitched. That was new. She didn’t know whether to scowl or smile at the nickname. “Don’t call me princess,” she decided to say instead.

Kenny shrugged, put the cigarette back in his mouth, and sat next to Henrietta. He threw his arm around her shoulders like she was his.

Henrietta watched him closely. He watched her too. He blew smoke in her face, the way she’d done to him numerous times. The gesture did the opposite of aggravate her. It made her heartbeat skip and her eyes widen in the slightest way.

She recovered from the moment of shock as fast as she could. “Did you take that from Kevin’s pack?” she drawled. She tugged at the flannel. “And this too?”

“Yeah,” Kenny replied.

Henrietta rolled her eyes. She glanced at her friends. Henrietta rolled her eyes. She glanced at her friends. They were watching the encounter with amusement. She returned her attention to Kenny.

He winked at her.

There went Henrietta’s heartbeat again, skipping like rope in her chest. Henrietta imagined doing numerous unholy things with Kenny, all of which included her bed.

The winter breeze blew her hair in her face, cooling her heating skin. Kenny reached out and tucked the short black chunks of layered hair behind her pierced ears. Instead of taking his hand away after that, he gently dragged his fingertips down the length of her jaw like he was going to bring her in and kiss her.

He was being quite bold today. He had never touched her so much and so fleetingly in one sitting. If he wasn’t going to move this forward, she would.

The zippers running down the thighs of Henrietta’s baggy black jeans clinked as she threw her leg over Kenny’s lap. She took his hands and put them where her bodysuit arced high over her hips. She felt Kenny slowly moving his fingers back and forth, trying to go undetected as he touched her skin. She pretended she didn’t feel it just so he wouldn’t stop.

She cupped his jaw with her left hand. She cocked her head to the side. Her lips were tilted up in a soft smile. She took the cigarette hanging from his lip and pressed it into the ground beneath them.

Kenny’s indigo eyes flickered down to the burnt out cigarette abandoned on the asphalt. Henrietta put her hand on the right side of his jaw, directing his gaze on her.

Slowly, her eyes half-closed, Henrietta leaned in. As she got closer, she felt Kenny’s breath hitch. Her friends were watching. Kenny was watching. Everyone in heaven and hell was watching. Henrietta smirked. She pushed her lips onto Kenny’s in what was their first kiss. He instantly melted into it, kissing back fiercely enough that it was no longer an innocent peck. Henrietta didn’t mind. In fact, she returned the kiss with just as much ferocity.

She was the one to end it, but she remained in his lap. She leaned her forearms on his shoulders. Their noses were touching. Their chests were rising and falling in a deep rhythm.

Henrietta looked deep into Kenny’s eyes. “I didn’t see you yesterday,” she said.

Kenny chuckled breathlessly. Her lipstick tinted his lips. “I was sick,” he replied.

“You don’t sound sick,” Henrietta remarked.

“I wasn’t feeling good. I didn’t have a cold or anything. Just a fucking miserable headache,” he said.

Henrietta raked her nails through his hair, pushing it from his eyes so she could see the color better. “I like miserable,” she murmured.

Kenny grinned, exposing the gap in his teeth. “I know, princess.”

Henrietta rolled her eyes. “This ‘princess’ thing isn’t going away, is it?” she asked.

Kenny put his hands on the sides of her neck. He moved his thumbs back and forth in slow caresses.

Henrietta knew God was real. She could see Him in Kenny, and she felt heaven when he touched her.

“You’re right on the money, princess.”

Henrietta heaved a sigh, rolling her eyes. She hated how she didn’t completely despise being called “princess.”

She loosely put her hand around Kenny’s neck. Her matte black acrylics looked gorgeous against his skin. “I better see you in Art tomorrow,” she said.

“You will,” Kenny promised. “We sit at the same table after all.”

Henrietta scoffed so she wouldn’t laugh. She closed the gap between her and Kenny once more.

The school day was completed, and so were two finals out of six. Kenny went home with Henrietta. Around nine after briefly studying for the final exams they had tomorrow, Henrietta and Kenny were on her couch, watching _The Addams Family._ They had watched four episodes and were onto their fifth.

They snapped along to the theme song. Henrietta grinned. Kenny grinned too. His eyes shone when he had his gaze on Henrietta.

The episode began.

Five minutes in, Henrietta mused, “I want a family like the Addams’s someday.”

Her hidden message flew over Kenny’s head. He agreed, “Fucking _same._ Morticia and Gomez are the epitome of all relationships.”

Henrietta kissed him once. She pulled away and said, “You don’t have to pretend you like this show to try to impress me.”

Kenny looked at her like she was insane. “Pretend? I’m not pretending. I like weird, creepy things.” He paused. His grin turned sly. He lifted her chin so she would have to keep her eyes on his. “That’s why I like you.”

This was the Kenny who had all the girls swooning for him as he sauntered down the hallway. Henrietta never thought she would be one of those girls, and because of that, at first, she had tried to distance herself from him in fear of falling. But Kenny always knew the right things to say, and she found that she couldn’t resist. She was no better than the swooning girls.

Henrietta suppressed a smile, feeling her heart do cartwheels. Most girls would find what Kenny said offensive, but to her, it was the most passionate, romantic declaration of love she had ever heard.

She said nothing in reply, but she put her head on his shoulder. As she returned her attention to the episode, she made herself at home, sinking into Kenny’s side and pulling the fuzzy blanket they shared up to their chins. Though she couldn’t see it, she could tell Kenny was beaming proudly at himself as he snaked his arm around her. She could tell that he knew she was smiling as well, even if he was watching the black and white show on the screen.

Once the episode ended, Kenny started begging Henrietta to watch _Elf,_ and she loved the sound of his begging so much that she let him put it on.

By the time the middle of the movie approached, Henrietta and Kenny lost interest. Kenny’s arm was draped over the top of the couch. Henrietta had her hand on his arm, caressing him as she listened to him talk. “I mean, normally, my family goes out to some cheap restaurant to eat. And then we go home and open our gifts in the living room. But my favorite part is when we all have a huge snowball fight in the backyard. Me and Kevin are always on one side, Mom and Karen on the other. My dad is usually the ref. Christmas is the only time of the year when I feel like we’re a normal family. On a regular day, sitting in the living room together doesn’t feel like we’re _really_ together. But Christmas snowball fights are when we all connect, when all of us aren’t arguing and screaming, but laughing and smiling instead,” Kenny said. He was looking down at the blanket they shared, running his hand back and forth over it.

Henrietta smiled. She reached up to touch his cheek. “Who usually wins?”

Kenny glanced up and said, “Me and Kevin usually go easy on Mom and Karen, but there have been times they’ve beaten us, and we don’t even try to go easy.”

Henrietta ran her hand over Kenny’s shoulder. “Which one of your parents are you closer to?”

“My dad. Kev’s closer to Mom, and Karen’s also closer to Mom, but she loves Dad too,” Kenny answered.

“Yeah, me too,” Henrietta said. “I feel like I’m closer to my dad.”

Kenny nodded. “I know a lot of people like Christmas so much because they get presents, but I like it because Christmas—and Christmas Eve too, actually—are the only days of the year my family doesn’t feel dysfunctional.” He met Henrietta’s gaze. The look in his eyes was sincere. “And now I get to be here with you. Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year.”

Henrietta had never smiled so wide. “Now I have you too. And yeah, Christmas really is wonderful,” she said. She took her hand from Kenny’s arm. On the table behind the couch, she felt around for the mistletoe her parents had yet to hang in a doorway. When she found it, she lifted it over hers and Kenny’s heads. They shared a smirk. He leaned in, placing his lips on Henrietta’s gently.

Under the blanket, Kenny had his hand on her thigh. When Henrietta tilted her head intending the kiss to be deeper, he squeezed her. Henrietta took in a sharp breath. Kenny used the opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips.

During a pause for a breath of air, Henrietta whispered, “You didn’t need to wear new clothes for me either.”

Kenny was still wearing his shirt, but he’d taken off his jeans so he could lounge comfortably on the couch. Henrietta glanced at them kicked under the coffee table. Her eyes flickered back up to Kenny. She craved to see what was really under all his confidence and lasciviousness just as she craved to see what was under his clothes.

Kenny inched his face closer, murmuring, “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me. I needed to establish a style so I don’t look like a fucking slob every day. I’m obsessed with you, princess, but I’m not gonna go changing for you.”

Henrietta was unconvinced, but all she said, her voice purring, was, “Kenny.” She hid her smile by kissing him.

Between their lips, Kenny muttered a surprised, “Whoa.” He recovered and returned his tongue to Henrietta’s mouth. She could feel the pass of breath between them. It was ecstasy.

Kenny asked between each break of their lips, “Are we” — _Kiss—_ “dating” — _Kiss—_ “or—”

Henrietta interrupted to whisper, “Not yet.”

Kenny kissed her. She peered at him through her eyelashes. Kenny’s brows were furrowed, but his eyes were closed. “If not yet, when?”

Henrietta put a hand on his cheek and kissed him back. “One day.”

_Kiss._

“When’s one day?”

_Kiss._

“One day, Kenny. Now hush and come here,” she instructed.

She felt Kenny’s smile imprinted on her lips as he moved closer to her. It stayed there for many more minutes. Kenny’s hand moved from her thigh to her hip, pulling her leg over his lap.

The TV played on unwatched.

Henrietta had forgotten she was sitting on her living room couch, but she was rudely reminded when she was torn away from Kenny.

The lights to the living room were suddenly on. The TV was paused. Henrietta glowered up at her father, who glowered back.

“What is the meaning of this, Henrietta?” he demanded.

She jerked her shoulder from under his hand. “Nothing,” she snapped.

Her mom was standing on the last step of the staircase, her hand over her heart, her mouth dropped open. Her parents were so dramatic. They were acting like they had caught her riding Kenny instead of _kissing_ him.

But, God, she would love to ride him.

“Time for bed,” her dad said tensely. He looked at Kenny. Henrietta noticed how he stilled. “You can sleep on the couch.”

Kenny nodded compliantly. His throat bobbed when he swallowed.

Though Henrietta felt annoyance coursing through her veins as she got up from the couch, she didn’t protest further. She never tried to put up much of a fight against her dad.

Her dad supervised as she helped Kenny lay blankets over the couch. When Kenny put his head down on his pillow and settled in, Henrietta’s dad started up the stairs. “Come on, Henrietta,” he said.

She obeyed. Henrietta went up the steps slowly, watching Kenny watch her. Her dad waited for her at the top of the stairs.

Kenny said, “Goodnight, Henri.”

“Night,” Henrietta replied. She switched off the downstairs lights. Everything was dark. She went to her room. Her dad closed the door softly once she was inside.

Henrietta got into bed, throwing the covers over her shoulders. She laid on her side.

Her bed was cold. There was empty space at her back. In her mind, she pictured Kenny alone downstairs. She wondered if the couch was cold too. Her heart lurched at the thought of him.

In hindsight, she should have told him how she felt about him. She didn’t want him thinking she was playing with his feelings. After all, she _was_ kissing him without telling him her outlook on what they were. Dread pooled in her stomach. She hoped he didn’t think she was leading him on. She liked him too much, and she was already liking what she’d started earlier that morning.

She _definitely_ should have given Kenny a hint so he could know she was into him and all he offered. If only he could know that them being together wasn’t as simple as it sounded.

 _I’ll go downstairs for him once my parents are asleep,_ she thought. _Maybe I won’t tell him I’m crazy for him, but at least he’ll be here with me._

In between laying in the dark and three a.m., Henrietta thought dirty thoughts. She went numb thinking about her on top of Kenny in his lap, her hands buried deep in his blonde hair, him kissing right beneath her throat. She thought about his hot breath, the smell of his skin, the feel of his rough hands on her smooth thighs.

Thinking about Kenny in such a way was how Henrietta put herself to sleep on any other day, but she refused to go to sleep now.

Once it was 3:30, Henrietta was sure her parents were asleep. The house was silent and still. Through the walls, she could hear her dad’s muffled snoring. She got out of bed and quietly crept down the pitch black hallway. She stopped at the top of the staircase. The railing was cold under the palm of her hand. For a second, Henrietta worried the heater downstairs was off, but then she could feel the warm air when she went down one more step.

Into the darkness, she whispered, “Kenny?”

She waited, and strained her ears for a reply. After a few seconds, she was convinced Kenny was asleep, but then she heard, “Yeah?”

That numbing feeling returned at the sound of Kenny’s groggy voice. She dug her nails into the wooden railing to help her get a grip on herself. “Come upstairs,” she said quietly.

Kenny started to protest, “But your dad said—”

Henrietta hissed, “Hurry up.”

Air whooshed as blankets were thrown off, the floorboards creaked, feet shuffled. Kenny met Henrietta on the stairs. She led him into her room. She shut the door with a muted click. They went to her bed and crawled under the covers. They continued kissing like they’d never been interrupted.

Kenny held Henrietta close. She could feel when his body moved against hers. She did her best to stifle the sigh that escaped between her lips. It was love as much as it was divine.

Kenny was unlike anything Henrietta had ever known. He was a heartbreaker that all the girls chased, but despite his abundant choices, he chose Henrietta, one of the only who didn’t give him all her attention. During the first week Kenny started bothering her, she was quick to realize that he didn’t want normal. He wanted someone dark and morose. He found that in Henrietta. He admired her traits and qualities, and she admired his. She grew up thinking she would find someone just as goth as her, but during that first week, it hit her that she didn’t want that. She wanted Kenny and every sin and blessing that came along with him. And if no one understood that, she was fine with it.

She pulled away to put Kenny’s arm around her waist. She brushed her thumb over his cheek. He smiled at her before continuing to kiss her hungrily. Henrietta decided, _I don’t need to tell Kenny I’m into him. I’m sure he already knows by now._


	2. Angel

Midnight on Christmas Eve was magical. Henrietta had never believed that, but she also had never shared her bed with Kenny late at night on Christmas Eve. They were staring at each other through the dark. Henrietta’s parents were asleep. It had taken them a lot of convincing to allow Kenny to spend the night, especially since it was Christmas.

Henrietta’s hands were beside her head on her pillow. Her fingers were bare, along with her neck. She had let Kenny take off her jewelry before crawling into bed. Kenny lifted his left hand and put it in Henrietta’s. She curled her fingers around his.

Kenny asked, “What’d you ask Santa for?”

Henrietta’s lips twitched, threatening to smile. “For you to go to sleep,” she responded.

Kenny grinned. “I asked Santa to tell me when you and me are finally gonna start dating, because I’m not gonna lie, I caught feelings a long time ago, and this feels like a good kind of torture knowing I have you the way you have a book on hold at the library but it hasn’t arrived. But it’s still torture.”

Henrietta scoffed. She turned the other way, her back to Kenny. He got the message and threw his arm around her waist, curling his body around hers. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Henrietta smirked to herself and closed her eyes.

The next morning, she woke up to pale light invading through the slit between her curtains. She sat up slowly, stretching her arms high above her head. She got out of bed and rubbed her bleary eyes as she made her way to the bathroom. When she came back, she stood in the middle of her room, combing her fingers through her messy hair. She glanced at her bed and finally noticed Kenny still sleeping soundly. She remembered last night and what today was.

Her hand fell to her side. She debated what to do. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at Kenny, but then he started moving, and suddenly he was sitting up and staring back at her.

His hair was flattened on the right side of his head, and his eyes were half-open as he grinned wolfishly at Henrietta. “What’s good, princess?” he croaked.

His morning voice was raspy and deep, and it made Henrietta’s knees weak. She stood straighter, tilting her nose up. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she crossed her arms. “Good morning to you too, idiot,” she snapped. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Kenny grinned wider. “Merry Christmas, indeed.” He stood from the bed and stretched loudly. He walked towards the door, and on the way, he threw his arm around Henrietta’s shoulders and led her out. He kissed her forehead.

Henrietta sat on the closed toilet lid as Kenny brushed his teeth. When he wiped his mouth clean, she said, “Wait, I wanna have you try this scrub I use every morning.”

Kenny examined his face in the mirror. “I mean, I have a few pimples, but do I look that bad?” he said.

Henrietta laughed and kissed Kenny’s cheek. “No, I just want you to try it.”

She used the hair tie around her wrist to keep Kenny’s hair from his face. Kenny put out his hand, and Henrietta dolloped some onto his palm. He felt it. “It’s lumpy,” he observed.

“Exfoliator beads,” she answered.

“Weird.” He scrubbed it over his face.

“Not so hard,” Henrietta said. “You don’t wanna rip the skin off your face.”

Kenny paused, staring at her in the mirror with a mildly horrified expression. She giggled. He went back to washing his face—gentler this time.

Once Kenny rinsed his face and was patting his skin dry, Henrietta asked, “How’d you like it?”

“It was cool,” Kenny said. He reached forward for her, and Henrietta took his hands. “My face feels cool, like I was just staring into the AC.”

Henrietta laughed. “Your face is refreshed,” she said.

“Refreshed,” Kenny repeated, like he’d never heard the word before.

Henrietta stepped closer to Kenny to kiss him on the mouth.

It was cold downstairs. Henrietta turned up the heater. She grabbed a blanket from the couch where Kenny was supposed to be sleeping last night, and tossed it to him.

Henrietta stood at the stove, making pancakes to the best of her ability. She didn’t usually make breakfast, but Kenny sitting at the table watching her was causing her to act strange. She felt the need to do something like serve him breakfast on Christmas morning.

They ate their pancakes under the glowing tree in the warm living room.

Henrietta’s parents always decorated the house for the holidays, inside and out. The tree was dazzling red and silver by the door. Stockings were hanging by the lit fireplace, and there was a snowy village on the mantle. Sitting up close with Kenny under the shared blanket, Henrietta felt Christmas anticipation in her heart, something she hadn’t felt since she was nine.

Finished eating, Kenny grabbed a small gift covered in black-with-silver-snowflakes wrapping paper and handed it to Henrietta. She hesitated before taking it from him. She shot Kenny a suspicious look. He smirked.

It was small, rectangular, and flat—the size of her hand.  There was a tag hanging from the silver bow. She opened the flap and read in Kenny’s handwriting, “Merry Christmas. You’re not too goth to celebrate it, are you?” She bit her lip to tame a smile as she slowly ripped the paper off the gift.

Underneath was a black box. She lifted the lid. She froze. On plush velvet was a gold necklace. It was a single angel wing, small and dainty. Henrietta sincerely hoped it was costume jewelry. She looked up at Kenny. “There’s no way—”

Kenny cut her off, “It wasn’t expensive, I swear. I bought it at Walmart for twenty dollars, if that makes you feel better.”

She pursed her lips, fixing him with a scolding look. He shrugged at her. He took the necklace from the box and leaned forward to put it around her neck. They both admired the necklace, Henrietta staring at her reflection in one of the silver Christmas ornaments. The necklace fell beneath the dip of her throat. She silently admitted to herself that she looked good in gold.

“Funny how a couple days ago I was wearing a bodysuit that literally said ‘no angel,’ and now I have this,” she said.

Kenny’s eyes were still connected to the necklace when Henrietta looked at him. He had forced her to wear Christmas pajamas that were identical to his. Their tops were fleece button-downs, and Henrietta had the first three buttons undone. It suddenly hit her that he wasn’t focused on the piece of jewelry anymore.

“My eyes are on my head, Kenny,” she reminded him, trying to sound berating. She wanted to laugh though, especially at the startled expression on his face when he looked up.

His ears and his freckled cheeks turned a satisfying shade of poinsettia red. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Henrietta felt a smirk fighting its way onto her mouth. She hid it by pretending to search for Kenny’s gift under the tree. When she found it, she had schooled her face back to its resting face. Her gift to Kenny was thicker and heavier than his was. He eyed her in the same suspicious manner she had him, and ripped off the wrapping paper.

Henrietta carefully watched Kenny’s face for recognition, and she got what she wanted. His eyes grew wide as he stared at the black cover of the Necronomicon. She gifted him the book because she remembered Mysterion and his persistent curiosity towards the topics it covered. She wanted to test if the zombie boy remembered that too.

Kenny swallowed thickly. His voice was hoarse when he said, “Thanks. I—I…” He forced a teasing grin onto his mouth. “Is this your way of telling me I need to read more?”

Henrietta smiled. “Obviously,” she drawled.

Kenny carefully put the book down next to him. All that was left in his hands was a manila folder. He moved to open it, but Henrietta stopped him. “You have to wait until you get home to open that one,” she said.

Kenny’s mouth formed an O. He put the folder on the coffee table and stared at the cover of the Necronomicon. He flipped to the first page and stared at the foreign words. Henrietta saw the way his eyes roamed the book. She wondered if he understood the ancient code. Abruptly, he cleared his throat and snapped the book shut.

Henrietta’s parents came downstairs. Once they were in the living room, Henrietta’s mother cooed, “Look how cute you two are, all matching! Let me get a picture!”

Henrietta groaned. “No, Mom,” she began to say.

Her mother was already directing them closer to the tree. Kenny and Henrietta were forced to comply. Henrietta’s mom had her phone poised in front of her. “Put your arms around each other and smile!” she exclaimed.

Henrietta wasn’t made up for a picture at the moment, but Kenny slung his arm around her waist and drew her into his chest. He was beaming at Henrietta’s mom’s phone camera. Henrietta smiled too, even though she was growing irritated.

Her mom was also smiling behind her phone. She snapped a picture. “Henrietta, honey, fix your shirt a little. I can see your—” She waved a hand in front of her chest.

Henrietta tugged the left side of her shirt closer to the right.

“Much better,” her mom said.

There was the shutter of multiple pictures being taken. After Henrietta counted five, she said, “Okay, you can get more once I’m changed.”

Henrietta’s dad made them all hot chocolate with mini marshmallows floating beneath the whipped cream. Henrietta’s parents had her open her gifts. They got her clothes, books, and makeup. She loved all of it. Her parents even got Kenny presents, and small things for his siblings too. Kenny was gifted clothes and a new parka.

“I helped pick that one out,” Henrietta whispered to him. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

“And the gifts for your siblings are also clothes, but don’t tell them,” Mrs. Biggle said. “Leave it a surprise.”

Kenny’s smile was steady on his face. “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Biggle said. “We’ve never seen Henrietta so happy until you got together.”

Kenny and Henrietta shared a look when her dad said, _You got together._

Henrietta thought, _Not quite yet._

Henrietta handed her parents their presents. They opened them, and she was eager for their reactions. She got her dad a new book light because he’d been complaining about his old one not working as well as it used to, despite changing the batteries. She got her mom Tarte Shape Tape concealer. She was always telling Henrietta how much she liked the concealer she used, so Henrietta figured she’d just buy it for her.

“You see?” Henrietta said. “I do listen to what you guys say. It just doesn’t seem like it.” She sipped her cocoa.

“Aww, honey, come here!” her mom exclaimed, holding out her arms.

Henrietta paused, her mug resting against her bottom lip. Her mom gestured for her to come give her a hug. Henrietta hid a sigh and stood to embrace her parents.  To herself, she admitted it felt good to not argue with her parents for once. Kenny was right about family coming together on Christmas.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” her dad said.

“Merry Christmas,” Henrietta mumbled to her parents. “I love you,” she said, quieter so Kenny couldn’t hear.

But she knew he did when she returned to her spot with him under the blanket beneath the Christmas tree.

He picked up his phone on the coffee table and glanced at it. He said, “It’s almost noon. I should get changed. I have to meet up with Kevin and Karen soon.”

“I’ll come with you. I have something for Karen anyway.” Henrietta dragged two wrapped gifts towards her from under the tree. “Kevin too.”

Kenny smiled, but he said nothing about it. Henrietta might have shoved him if he teased.

They got up and started for Henrietta’s room upstairs. On the fourth step, Henrietta’s mom called, “Henrietta, don’t forget to be back home by five. Bradley’s coming home at that time.”

Henrietta said, “Okay!” and continued up the stairs and into her room with Kenny at her heels.

Henrietta sat at her vanity, focusing on her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was messy and unbrushed, and she had mascara stains under her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had let her mom take pictures of her looking like this. The only pretty thing about Henrietta at the moment was the angel wing necklace. It glinted when she folded back the collar of her shirt to expose it to the light.

In her mirror, her gaze flickered over to Kenny at the right. His back was facing her as he lifted his shirt over his head instead of unbuttoning it. It shouldn’t have had such an effect on Henrietta, but she was captivated by the way the lean muscles on his back moved when he tossed it to the side.

He was already in his jeans, and his pajama pants were discarded near his shirt. She was disappointed knowing she only got to witness him taking off his shirt.

She got up from her vanity and walked over to Kenny. He watched her come nearer.

He was still shirtless.

Henrietta put her hands on his bare shoulders and pushed him to the bed. He fell on his back. Using his elbows, he scooted further up the mattress. His eyes were wide in excitement. A wild smirk was flickering onto his mouth.

Henrietta crawled over him. She could feel his shallow breathing on her skin. She smirked, admiring his face in such a close proximity to hers. He had so many freckles, his lips were smooth, his eyes were the nicest shade of violet. She’d kill to have nail polish the color of his eyes. Now would be the perfect time to kiss him, but that would be too easy. She wanted to tease him.

Henrietta sat up and straddled his hips without sitting on his lap. She wanted the small gap of space between their hips to drive him insane. Henrietta slowly began unbuttoning her top. Kenny was intently staring at her face. He was trying not to look below, but that’s where she wanted him to look.

Finally, with the fifth button on Henrietta’s pajama shirt undone, his eyes raked over her exposed torso. The final buttons still covered her belly button. Henrietta put her hand on Kenny’s stomach. She could feel the rapid up and down of his breathing.

Though his ears were bright red, Kenny made eye contact with Henrietta. He smirked and said, “Nice bra, Henri.”

Before Henrietta’s face could redden, she took a pillow and covered Kenny’s face with it, keeping it there as it muffled his laughter.

“Don’t take that pillow off your head, or I’ll punish you,” she said through gritted teeth.

 _Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush,_ she thought over and over.

“But what if I wanna be punished?” he asked from beneath the pillow.

“I’ll punish you by never letting you near me again.”

Kenny’s laughter cut off abruptly. “I won’t peek,” he said gravely.

Henrietta let go of the pillow, grinning in triumph to herself. She crawled off Kenny and stood at the foot of the bed, admiring his tall, lean body lying so still on her bed. His skin was a fine tan, not too golden, but enough to give him color. Like his face, his chest and shoulders were freckled. The shark tooth on his necklace was sliding to the side. She found it strangely attractive how she could see the waistband of his boxers over the top of his jeans. She was satisfied to know Kenny didn’t bother hiding the tent in his pants.

Henrietta went to her closet. She threw on a pair of jeans and reached for her ugly Christmas sweater. Like the pajamas, Kenny wanted matching sweaters too. They were black with knitted snowflakes on the sleeves. Front and center was a frowning gingerbread man snapped in half.

Before putting on the shirt, Henrietta glanced out her window. It was snowing. A white Christmas. That had never mattered so much as it did to her today.

“Nice boobs too,” Kenny added, musing. “Especially with my necklace around your neck.”

Henrietta, startled, looked to the bed at Kenny. The pillow was under his head. He was eyeing her up and down slowly. He had the stupidest, dirtiest grin on his face.

“I told you no peeking,” she said, attempting her voice to convey anger she didn’t really feel.

He shrugged. “I couldn’t resist.”

Henrietta pulled the sweater over her head. She almost blushed, and she _never_ blushed. She growled instead. “Don’t make me kick you out,” she snapped. “I’m sure my dad would treat you _real_ nicely if I told him what you just said.” She took her deodorant from her vanity.

“Your dad isn’t scary,” Kenny said dismissively.

Henrietta sprayed herself under the arms and turned around. Kenny was flipping through the Necronomicon.

He continued, “He’s pretty chill actually. And I’ve seen scarier than protective dads in my lifetime.”

Henrietta wondered what _kinds_ of scarier things he had seen. Still, she took her deodorant from under her shirt and walked over to the bed. They stared at each other. Then Henrietta sprayed Kenny’s face.

He jerked away. “Hey!” he laughed, choking on the air.

The corner of Henrietta’s mouth lifted. “You stink.”

He shot her a look. “I took a shower last night. Here. At _your_ house. You gave me a towel.”

Henrietta pictured the way Kenny walked into her room last night: standing in the middle of her bedroom watching her watch him, water droplets from his hair rolling down his chest, nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. One tug might have had that thing falling.

Her stomach did flips that she decided to take no notice of.

“I know. I heard you singing.” She capped her deodorant and put it back. She sat in her vanity chair. “You sing well.” That was an understatement. Kenny’s singing was the best she had ever heard. Not even the singers she listened to sung as stunningly as Kenny.

Kenny walked up behind her, leaning to her ear. “I can serenade you,” he murmured.

Henrietta scoffed. “Put your shirt on. I feel like an idiot wearing this alone.”

Kenny went to get his sweater laying on her dresser.

She grabbed her moisturizer and primer. She only did full makeup looks on special occasions, and since it was Christmas, this was her excuse to go all out. She planned on foundation (something she rarely used because she hated how it felt on her face), bronzer, highlight, eyeshadow, and of course, eyeliner. And because it was Christmas, she would wing her eyeliner as well as go on her waterline.

With his shirt on, Kenny watched her in the mirror. “You look beautiful with or without makeup, you know.”

In her mind, Henrietta was jumping up and down, demanding for Kenny to man up and put his tongue on her already. She pulled off the impassiveness well: “I know.”

Kenny put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, nodding and grinning. He walked back to the bed, his head thrown back, as if thinking, _Slick bitch._

On the bed, Kenny kept watching her, even while she was blending out her concealer. He watched her through her whole routine.

She brushed on mascara to even out her real eyelashes with her falsies. Despite being a pain in the ass to put on, she liked the look of them, nonetheless. She pulled back and blinked at her reflection. She loved how eyeliner and mascara made her eyes pop.

She glanced at the corner of her mirror. Kenny was still watching. “Why do you keep staring at me?” she asked. 

Kenny shrugged. “I like watching you perform menial, everyday tasks. It’s fascinating to me.”

Henrietta was silent and frozen. For a moment, she imagined herself carrying around a little baby as she performed menial, everyday tasks around the house. She wondered what hers and Kenny’s kids would look like.

When she realized what she was doing, she immediately stopped herself. She was horrified, but she covered it up by organizing the makeup products on her vanity.

She was thinking,  _ Oh my God, this boy already has me picturing me having his kids. What a world. _

Henrietta finished her look with lip gloss. Then she ran her brush through her black hair. It was getting longer. She was planning on growing it out to bra strap length.

Kenny stood up. He looked her over and grinned. “I’m surprised you’re not in all black,” he said.

Her jeans were blue. The gingerbread man was brown. She barely had color in her closet, save for a few clothing items. Jeans were one of the few.

“I know, right?” she joked.

Kenny was also in blue jeans that he had paired with his new orange parka over his ugly sweater. With the hood over his head, he tightened the strings so it pinched around his face. She could tell he really liked his new parka by the way he nuzzled his nose into the faux fur lining.

Henrietta put on her jewelry: three silver necklaces, silver rings on all her fingers, silver earrings in her five ear piercings. The gold angel wing stood out from the rest. It was the shortest too, and because of the color difference, it drew the eye more than the others.

She stood from her chair and moved her hair over her shoulder. Kenny put his hands on her hips and kissed her deeply.

By the door, Henrietta and Kenny sat side by side as she zipped up her knee-length boots and he tied his ratty sneakers. Henrietta’s mom took three more pictures, gushing over their matching sweaters, over how handsome Kenny was and how well the parka fit him, over how gorgeous Henrietta looked as always. Then Kenny and Henrietta left the warmth of the house for the cold winter air. With one hand, Henrietta held Kevin’s and Karen’s gifts in a bag. With the other, she took Kenny’s arm so she could wrap it around her waist. Snow fell onto their clothes as they walked down the sidewalk, tangled up in each other like they were a couple.

_One day,_ Henrietta swore to herself. _One day I’ll make him all mine._

Kenny looked at her and smiled—his genuine, kind hearted, took-Henrietta-by-the-heart smile—as if he could read her mind. Like she was shutting him up, she put their lips together in a kiss sweeter and warmer than hot cocoa on Christmas by the fireplace.


End file.
